Hook, Line, and Lyrically Lavished!

Cool as a CoVid-19 age page, with a Spick Mustache

Why did you leave me hanging from the white growing Birch tree?
It was my Birthday and I just want to say, “Hey” and “Cut me down!”
We can drift and drive into town, the muffler making a tart-ing sound,
Traveling across grounds, on County Grounds to sway here not away.
Somewhere far to get into the EV car, plugged in and battery-powered.
With corporeal batterey Battered Buns all for used, for you, my hunny…

A Playing boy’s funny “Mister Bunny” secreting the sebum of a worn rectum
“Wrecked ‘em??? Damn near killed him!” Feeling the width of an Os-PRAY!

Bird in a next new Nest breasts on her chests, filled with treasure, or pleasure
Kneeding milk of the 100-proof “Nips” I’d buy sneaking them home- me so sly…

Do I drink now ?????

The answer is “Nigh” for many years, never sipping beers or sugary soda, I told ya

Acrobat erratic in the stapled-tincture endearing with “John Deere” Stocks, my socks

I wish my Aunt Ida was alive, and although I know, I knew she lived a nice life of excess eating but with ZERO BREEDING!



I know a lot.  I learned so much, clutching her with my Disabled hand… REACHING BEYOND GOD but years ago and never step-sister (or “Step-Mom”???) sinner?, me bitter and sweet, I ask “Why?”

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